Count The Steps From Where You Are
by xohearted12
Summary: Though he's not sure why, there's something comforting about drowning away his sorrows in a foreign place where no one knows his name. Steve/Kono. AU!


Hello, everyone!

Thanks so much for all of the support on my previous stories, it really means a lot, I cannot stress that enough. This one is definitely random and probably kind of pointless, but I kind of like it. I don't know, let me know what you think.

A/N: If you are planning on reading this, but are not a fan of AU's, you should probably click out of this, because this is definitely that. It's not horribly different, but their are several noticeable differences that may not be well received, as I know is often a problem with alternate universe stories.

Again, thanks so much for reading for anyone who is, and as always, please enjoy!

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_pairing: _steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_genre: _romance/drama/hurt/comfort

_fandom: _hawaii five-0

_disclaimer: _still not mine, sadly.

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A few days ago, he - Steven McGarrett, former Navy SEAL - had been living in a lonely apartment with two bedrooms and three bathrooms somewhere in New York City. There, in the city with endless amounts of people, the streets are constantly lined with cars, buses, and taxes, driven by everyone from tourists to local business men and women in a rush to go nowhere at all. During all the hours of the night, people are walking up and down the sidewalks with places to go and things to see. The city is alive, with something always happening somewhere. For most of his life he had lived here, embracing the fast paced culture what it is, and for a long time he had loved it. This place had been his home, born and raised, but following his father's death (murder, though he is reluctantly to mention that to anyone), Steve has not been able to find a reason as to why he ever chose to stay.

As his teenager, his mother had died, killed in a horrible car accident that she had never seen coming, leaving him feeling abandoned and lost in the city that never sleeps, a feeling he would never wish upon his worst enemy. And for a long while following that, his life seized to move. Everything inside of him changed, shifted, if not stopping completely. Nothing around him seemed to matter any longer.

His father, who had always been strict and harsh, shut down, shutting out him and his sister, who was much too young to understand why her mother never walked back through the front door or why their nights were spent listening to their father cry and shout out their mother's name after a few bottles of scotch, desperate for the woman that he loved, the woman who had left him behind to raise two children he never knew he wanted. Having no one to rely on, Steve, at such a young age, had been forced to grow up and face the reality that life sucks and nothing is fair, being left with no other choice but to move on and get on with his life.

Living in the greatest city on Earth once had it's benefits, each day filled with excitement and aggressive people, the city filled with the greatest sights and Broadway and Times Square, but no longer. All of the lights beaming from the windows of the numerous skyscrapers scattered all over town were once a magical sight in comparison to the darkness of the night, but all of that is gone now. It is not the same city he once loved and cherished. Or maybe he's just not the same person he once was all those years ago.

So, in what most would call a desperate cry for help, he quit his job as a NYPD police officer and booked a one way flight to France without even bothering to give his sister, Mary Ann, any notice to the fact that he was going to be leaving the country for a while - not that she called anyway, but that's beside the point. Following their father's passing, it would be an understatement to say that there relationship had become strained. They hardly spoke anymore, him on the east coast, while she pursued a career on the west. Phone calls were few and far between, not to mention the fact that her letters seem to stop showing up at his doorstep altogether. Last he had heard from her, she was working in a small, quiet town at the local book store, hoping to find a more stable job. He remembers her mentioning a boyfriend at the time, but is not sure of whether the two had remained together or not.

Actually, he had not mentioned the news to his friends, either. Not that he had many. Their problems seemed so unimportant to the ones he had long since faced and battled.

For as long as he could remember, Steve had always dreamed of becoming a police officer as an adult. His childhood had been consumed by the idea that he would save the world one arrest at a time, just as the way his career had taken over his life now, his entire world revolving around work and cases and criminals. Being a cop consumed all of his time and when he was finally able to go home, tired and worn out - past midnight on multiple occasions - all he ever wished to do was sleep. And slowly, and without him even really noticing, anyone who he had once been close to stopped trying.

They stopped calling, stopped inviting him places.

They stopped caring.

It wasn't worth the effort. _He_ wasn't worth the effort.

But after a while, his job became just a way to waste a lot of his time, instead of something he loved to do, something he once dreamed about, leaving him with a whole bunch of free time, more than ever before, and no one in the world to share it with.

Maybe that is why he ended up on a different continent, thousands of miles away from home. He wasn't sure what he was doing or hoping to find, but he needed to find somehow, because without it, he was sinking hard and fast.

.

"_paris in the morning is beautiful, paris in the afternoon is charming, paris in the evening is enchanting, but paris after midnight...is magic."_

His first few days in Paris are spent walking up and down the streets, trying to get a feel for the city. The whether is cold this time of year, requiring him to wear a light jacket as he walks around downtown, which is filled with a bunch of designer clothing shops. The accent is strange to listen to, foreign to his ears, which is why he does his best to avoid striking up any kind of conversation.

The Eiffel Tower is to his left, tall and beautiful - just the way they paint it to be - and, just for a moment, he can't believe that he is here. Looking around, the lights are blinding - bright and always on - and the people aren't that nice, he's noticed, but it doesn't bother him much.

Actually, once he truly thinks about it, Paris isn't much different from New York. There isn't really much for him to get used to at all.

He's can't stay here. Paris isn't going to help him find whatever it is that he's out in the world searching for. Steve only stays in Paris for six days before he has booked another flight to a completely new country. This time he decides to leave for Rome.

Maybe he would be able to find himself there. Maybe, just maybe, he could salvage whatever it is that he has lost along the way.

By nine o'clock the next morning, he is boarding yet another plane.

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_"it's easy to understand why the most beautiful poems about england in the spring were written by poets living in Italy at the time." _

Unfortunately, he only makes it two days in Italy. No more, no less. He spends the majority of those forty-eight hours eager to leave, not because the people are mean or the food is strange, but because of what the place means.

He just can't stay because at every street corner something stick out to him, reminding him of his mother, the one he loved, the one he lost. It's nothing in particular, just a constant reminder of the fact that she had always wished to travel to Italy. Even as a young boy, she always been mentioning and speaking of this place, so it is all he can think about. He is surrounded by some of the most beautiful churches in the world, some of the most famous sights, and all he can think about is his mother. A woman he hasn't even thought about in months, simply because it is all just too painful.

It's all too painful and he's not willing to face any of it, not because he is weak, but because she was his mother, the woman that loved him and raised him and taught him right from wrong. He had always been her greatest fan, which is why learning that her heart had failed her at only the age of forty. He did not travel half way across the world to be reminded of the broken parts he is because of her death.

It does not take Steve very long to realize that he should have never come to this place.

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_"i thought my book was done, then we went to hawaii and the whole last chapter happened." _

The bar was practically empty as Steve stared into his beer - his second of the night. The brown liquid settled at the bottom of the bottle after he had set it down on the countertop. His fingers tapped the wood impatiently while his thoughts took control.

A week ago, he had arrived into Honolulu International Airport with every hope and intention of finding a piece of himself here, something new and excitement that helped him to feel something. But so far, the only thing he had discovered was the fact that he is an excellent surfer, the ocean and the crashing waves pulling him in at first sight. The people are nice, but perhaps his favorite aspect of the city is that it is much quieter here - especially at night, something he never experienced in New York. He's spend most of the day on the beach or in the ocean, watching the clouds pass and the people around him smile and laugh as the sun shines across their back, but still finds himself at the local bar on Kapahulu Avenue each and every night.

The alcohol is the same as it is in any bar around the world, but, though he is not sure why, there is something comforting and charming about drowning away his sorrows in a foreign place where no one knows his name, where no one can judge him or his foolish choices.

Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, a woman, heels and all, takes the seat next to him. But because he is far too wrapped up in his own thoughts of how screwed up and messy his life has become, he barely notices her.

Soon, she raises her arm to call the bartender over, and just after that, there is a drink sitting in front of her. She starts by picking it up every couple of seconds, swallowing the liquid in small sips.

At some point - he's not sure when - Steve can feel himself begin to look over at her, out of the corner of his eye, of course, attempting to keep her from noticing his gaze. He examines the room, seeing that there are at least five other open seats, and yet she had decided to seat next to him upon walking in.

Her hair is long and wavy, a dark brown color, and she has the longest eyelashes he's ever seen. Her lips are a soft, nude color, while her nails are painted pitch black.

After a while, he begins to feel weird about watching her security, deciding not to look in her direction again, but as soon as he does exactly that her chair is turning as she introduces herself. "I'm Kono." She reveals with a thin smile, her hand outstretched towards Steve, waiting for him to shake it, and, a second later, he does just that without giving her any information about himself.

"And who might you be?" She questions, curiously while brushing her finger along the rim of her glass.

He sighs deeply, feeling his shoulders fall forward just slightly, before taking a moment to truly ponder her question. He could answer it a lot of ways, depending on just how much he wants her to know, but he's able to settle on one after a moment. "Just a guy looking for a little guidance." Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as she rolls her eyes, clearly not amused by his answer.

"Well, I don't think you're going to find it in that bottle." Her head tilts in one direction as she speaks with a smug tone. A smirk is threatening to appear as she points at the glass in his hand.

He shrugs, not entirely caring that she may or may not be right. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"So, where you from?" She asks, obviously picking up on the fact that he is not from around here, though he's not sure how she figured it out exactly.

"New York." He responds, speaking against the edge of the bottle as it rests near his lips. Moving his elbows just a bit, he shifts in his seat, hoping to get a better look at her. She doesn't seem the least bit surprised by his response.

"I thought so." She pauses. It appears that she wants to say more, but stops herself. "What's it like over there?"

"Fine, I guess."

"You guess?"

He nods, not wishing to speak about it any longer, and, after that, she doesn't push the topic any further, respecting his right to privacy.

….

They sit together for several hours without either saying a word.

She minds her business, occupying her time by watching the television mounted on the wall or playing with her drink, her fingers, and her hair, anything to entertain herself while he thinks.

For the most part, Steve spends his time wondering how he could have been so foolish to honestly believe that he would find some type of answer as to why he feels so broken, so numb. He is aware of where it all started, the pain he feels at all hours, but is not sure how he allowed it to get so out of hand, so uncontrollable. It had been stupid of him to think he would manage to fix himself with a couple of plane tickets to foreign countries. He knew that now. But, of course, the realization had decided to come after he had spent thousands of dollars in airfare and quit his job.

….

She is the first to break the silence.

"So, city boy, how'd your little quest for guidance, as you like to call it, bring you here? To Honolulu?" She's whispering now, leaning closer to him, genuinely intrigued by what his answer might be.

He doesn't know exactly why, but he starts talking, revealing everything to the woman sitting beside him. "I left everything behind about a month ago. Packed a bag and bought a ticket."

"Why here?" She presses, asking once again.

He hesitates to answer, remembering the time he spent in Europe. "This actually wasn't my first stop. I've been to France and Italy already." He explains before finishing the remaining contents of his beer bottle.

"And, what, you didn't find your guidance there?" By the tone of her voice, he can tell she thinks that he is stupid and pathetic (just like he does) and he can't blame her. What idiot would pick up his entire life; leave everything behind, to travel the world with nothing more than a single bag and a few hundred dollars to his name? He cannot even begin to believe that there had actually been a time where he honestly thought that all of this would solve his problems.

Shaking his head, he turns his head to look directly at her. "No. I'm just not sure what I'm looking for, yet."

"Maybe that's the problem." She begins, but he's confused. He furrows his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue. "Maybe you just have to realize that you aren't looking for anything." For a long while, her words do not make an ounce of sense to him, but before he has the chance to speak, she is again. "You aren't looking for anything. You're running from something." She declares, whispering the words into his ear, close enough to feel her breath on his skin.

At first, he's angry.

This girl - whoever she is - does not know the first thing about him, but has somehow decided that she's him all figured out. She doesn't that he has a dead mother (the source of most of his issues), and a dead father for the matter, as well as an almost nonexistent with his little sister. She doesn't know what he does (did?) for a living, but since she is the first person to speak to him - really speak to him - in months, he lets it go. He wants to hear what else she has to say, what she truly thinks. Maybe she'll have more insight into who he is, who he wants to be.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're a little lost." This time, she's the one to shrug. Finally, her hand rests on her cheek as her elbow props up on the countertop.

"So what if I am?"

"That's okay." She's whispering again and he swallows, wondering if she has more to say. Of course, she doesn't let him down. "The lost ones always have the best stories."

He nods, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could be right.

...

"So, what is it that you do in New York?" She asks, just after midnight.

At this point, they have moved to a nearby booth in the bar, long since abandoning the somewhat uncomfortable bar stools. The conversation has been light and occasionally she would get a laugh out of him, but it never lasts long.

"I'm actually a cop."

"You're a man in a uniform?" It's more of a rhetorical question, but he nods anyway. "Interesting. That just so happens to be my type if you must know." She reveals while leaning over the table, moving closer to him, speaking in a low voice while pulling a badge out of her pocket and placing it on the table.

A moment passes - filled with silence and stolen glances - before she asks, "So…I'll see you around?" She wonders aloud while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the most nervous he has seen her act all night long.

"Uh, no, I don't think so." He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. "I'm sorry." He truly is, but even if he is interested in her, who she is, who she wants to be - which he is - it doesn't matter matter anyway. Not when he is boarding a place back to New York anyway. Some girl he only spent a limited amount of time with, discussing everything and, yet, nothing at all, is not going to mean anything in the long haul.

"Well, that's a shame." She mutters, sounding the slightly bit disappointed, but trying to hide it. Quickly - almost as one-fluid motion - she stares down at the contents of her drink before lifting the glass to her lips and proceeding to finish the remaining liquid.

Soon after, she is stepping out of the booth and - taking him completely by surprise - placing her warm hands on his cheeks, pulling him towards her. Her lips are moving against his, slowly but forcefully, but he doesn't have enough time to respond, because almost as suddenly as it begins, the kiss is over. She's the first to pull away before the pad of her thumb is stroking his cheek tenderly as their eyes meet. He wants to say something, but no words come. There just aren't any.

"Good luck out there." She advises with a smile. He's not sure, but he assumes that by 'there' she is meaning the big, bad world that is waiting outside this little bar in the middle of Honolulu. "And if, for some reason, you're not able to whatever it is that you think you are looking for, you know where to find me."

And that's it. She walks out of the room, the sound of her heels echoing against the walls even after she's left, leaving him alone at the bar.

Whatever. Does it really matter, anyway? It's all the same loneliness with or without a companion.

_._

_"i would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of new york's skyline." _

His flight from Hawaii had lasted twelve long, endless hours, lasting longer than necessary, but Steve did not find himself to be in any rush. He was in absolutely no hurry to return back to his lonely apartment that had always felt so cold and empty and impersonal, but, because he had never had any intention of sticking around for as long as he had, Steve had never taken the energy to fix it.

His plane lands at the airport exactly on schedule. He grabs his only bag from the compartment above his seat and - after making his way through several gates - is able to find a cab without any difficulty. That may just be the thing that surprises him most, but he's too damn tired to care.

Once in the cab, he provides the driver with instructions needed to bring him home before relaxing into the seat, taking a quick moment to look around. The street signs placed along the roads all look the same, just as the buildings and people do. Having left in the middle of the autumn months, a month had come and gone since he had stepped foot in this city. It had not felt like quite that long, though. But the leaves now beginning to fall to the ground in every shade were enough to convince him otherwise.

The cab drops him off in front of his apartment building and almost appearing the same way he had left it, Steve scans the rooms of his apartment. There are no pictures hanging on the walls or any personal touches scattered around. It is an empty house, never once thinking to ever being to call it a home, which is why he is not shocked in the least bit to find that he did not miss it while away.

Just as no one here had missed him.

Even with the amount of time that had elapsed, it only just occurred to him - upon checking his voicemail - that no one had even made the effort to call. Not one single message had been left on his machine, and in that moment, he knew that he had made a huge mistake in coming back here.

It was still hard for him to believe that in the city where he was born and raised, he is able to feel so completely and utterly alone. There was once a time when he loved it here (or at least he would love to think so), but he can barely remember that time now.

But if he does known anything at all, it's that he definitely does not belong here anymore.

.

He had absolutely no idea why he came back here; back to this city, or more specifically, this bar.

It had been two month since he left, two months since he had gone back to New York, but it was the only place he could think of going. It was the only place - throughout his entire journey - that he had ever felt something, anything at all. It wasn't much, just a small conversation with a girl named Kono, but it had been something.

And then, finally, he sees her, sitting in the bar - almost in the same spot she had sat in months before - with a drink in her hand. Her hair is darker, longer, but it is definitely her. There is not a doubt in his mind about it.

After a few seconds, he legs begin to move underneath him and he is standing only a few feet behind her. Almost as if sensing his presence, she spins on her heel and stares at him in shock. But then, only a moment later, he notices a spark in her eye, a look of realization and recognition. She remembers him and, knowing that, he can finally release the breath he had been holding so tightly. Coming here, unnoticed and after so much time had passed, he had been scared that she would not remember who he even was.

"Look who it is. I was starting to lose hope, city boy." She teases with a smirk, a hand grasping her sides by the hips.

"Stop calling me that." He orders with a stern expression before sitting beside her.

"Well, I would, if you were to gave me your name."

"It's Steve. Steve McGarrett."

"Steven." She says the name a few times - choosing to use the longer version - almost as if testing how it feel on her tongue as it leaves her mouth. She doesn't seem satisfied. He knew that immediately once he saw her shake her head in disapproval. "No. I think I'm just gonna stick to city boy."

"Of course you are." He's not entirely surprised as he looks down at his feet with a laugh.

They are staring at each other again when she asks, "Do you want to go for a walk?"

He nods before following her out the door, trailing closely behind.

...

They are walking down the sidewalk, closer than necessary, when she asks, "So, why'd you come back?" Her fingers are tangled in her hair as she looks at him.

"I don't know." He shrugs before shoving his hands in his pockets. "What can I say? I just couldn't stay away from a certain Hawaiian girl." He can't stop himself from joking while bumping his shoulder into her own.

"Oh, stop it!" She slaps his shoulder, teasingly.

"What? I'm serious." He laughs while rubbing the spot she had slapped. When she doesn't respond and there is silence between them again, he is sure that things had just taken a violent turn into serious territory. "You were right. I was running from my life and my problems. I made it all the way around the world and back, but nothing changed. I saw it all, but when I got back to New York, you were the only thing that I could remember from the entire thing." His words falter then, and that's when he realizes that she has stopped walking.

"So?" Her shrug is minimal, barely noticeable, but he does notice that she won't look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" She questions before crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't know. I have no idea." He's rubbing the back of his neck again and she can tell that he is incredibly nervous. "But it's got to mean something, right?" At least that's what he wishes to think.

"Maybe it does."

"All I know is that I don't have a life in New York anymore. I sold my apartment, all of my stuff. It's all gone." He explains, using hand motions to make his point.

"Why?"

Even though he had known that the question was coming, Steve had not ready with an answer for it when he finally came. But he does his best. "Because even after everything, I was still lost and…" He's at a loss for words then, ashamed of what he's saying, almost positive that he is sounding as pathetic as he feels.

She sighs heavily, knowing exactly where he is headed with that sentence. "And you knew where to find me." So, she finishes it for him.

He nods. "Exactly."

"You know, I actually heard recently that the governor is putting together a little task force. Been hearing that they need a leader. You were in the Navy, right?" Her question surprises Steve, mainly because he is pretty sure that information had never been mentioned to her by him, and without him having to say anything at all, she continues on. "Okay, so I may have done a bit of research." She confesses with a blush and a bit of a laugh. before, suddenly, wrapping her around his shoulder, leading him down the sidewalk.

Steve, telling her that he may just take her up on her offer, smiles back at her as she grins, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, leading him down the sidewalk. "I think it's about time that I show a certain city boy around Honolulu."

He laughs at the mention of his nickname before responding with a smile. "That sounds great."

Suddenly, as they start walking, the sun drops down in the sky, settling just above the water of the harbor and the sight is breathtaking. The skyscrapers are standing tall in the sky as the stars begin to appear - the same ones that always seem to hide in New York.

Oh, yeah. He thinks he is going to like it here.

THE END.

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For anyone that has made it this far, thanks so much for reading this. Let me know what you thought of it, and please have a very happy, safe holiday! :)


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